Hounds: Gooch, Cuddles, BP, Dip, nnKat Our co-harriettes departed NBA’s house right at about 6:30. The hounds, feeling generous, gave them a significant amount of time, so as not to catch Phi Phi on her inaugural hare, and discourage her from the multitude of trails that she undoubtedly has the confidence to lay now. When we did finally leave, we followed a rather urban, shiggy-less trail through NOCOH (North College Hill) that seemed to have a split or intersection at just about every fucking corner. We haphazardly made our way south of Douglas and into SOCOH, where the hares spoiled the fun of the upcumming xmas hash by taking us on a light tour, and ultimately to Puff’s where we enjoyed 16oz. beers and waited patiently for our host to join us, which he never did (what a wank, what wank, what a wank wank wank…). After we left the BN, Gooch was attacked by a string of lighted sacks next door. He initially ran into Puff’s neighbor’s yard, gallantly hurdling a lighted reindeer. But then, as he attempted to dance around the string of sacks that adorned the perimeter of the yard, they got caught up in his feet, causing him to pull them out of place, one-by-one. After BOYA freed him from the cords and placed the sacks back where they belonged, hounds made their way back to the north, down the fanciest of fancy streets in College Hill. Cuddles had to stop to get his picture taken with a plastic Santa, BOYA blew a giant inflatable snowman, and BP, while posing for a photo, accidentally knocked on the door of what she thought was the “Frank Lloyd Right House” with her butt, causing all hashers involved to scamper off. As it turns out, it wasn’t the FLRH, but just a quaint abode, whose owner undoubtedly shit all over himself upon hearing the audible “CLANG” that BP’s ass made on his metal door. Trail ended at Phi Phi’s new digs where we all sang songs and drank beer. In the circle, the Hares claimed that although the first ½ of the trail was 100% chalk and the second ½ was 99% flour, there was not auto-hashing or pre-laying involved. All hounds were and still remain skeptical, but there is no proof so Anus drank for the false accusation. We also discovered that if ANUS, GOOCH, and boathouse PUSSY stand in that order, they are anatomically correct. Oh, and it was 69 degrees in Phi Phi’s place. Just Sayin’. A good time was had by all. Except maybe for the guy that shit himself. ONON.